


Family Ties

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: M/M, Romance, Series: Cascade Place, other pairing - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 04:42:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/794071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A new mystery villian is in town and out to take down Major Crimes<br/>This story is a sequel to Patterns.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Family Ties

## Family Ties

by Blair Kennedy

Author's webpage: <http://members.tripod.com/~Blair_K/index.html>

Author's disclaimer: Not mine. I'm working on it.

* * *

"The first thing you have to realise, Blair, is bulimia is not your problem. It's your solution. It is our task to discover your problem and find a better solution," Dr. Sloane Denning said as she clasped her hands in front of her. "How does that make you feel?" 

"How am I supposed to feel?" Blair asked, settling into the leather couch in Sloanes' office. "I feel, I don't know. This is so not me, man. I don't need a shrink." 

"Then why are you here? If you don't need my help, why do you continue to come see me?" 

"Because I don't want to talk to Jim about this?" 

"Why not?" 

"It's embarassing. I mean, bulimia is like a girl's disease. Isn't it?" 

"It's true bulimia is more prevalent in girls and young women, striking only one percent of the male population. Still, you don't need to be embarrassed. How do you think Jim would react?" 

"I don't know. He knows there's something wrong with me and he's kind of pissed that I won't tell him what it is. Before, he would have pressured me to tell, but now, he's treating me with the old kid gloves. It's weird. I sometimes think I liked it better when he pressured me be more open about what I was feeling. I mean, he'd open up to me, but I would keep things close to the vest. I think that bothered him more than anything." 

"What bothered him?" 

"Trusting me with with his problems. He'd tell me stuff he wouldn't tell anyone else. Not even Simon. But, I wouldn't ever do the same. I think he thought there was an inequality, there. I knew more about him than he did about me." 

"Why?" 

"I don't know." 

"Don't you trust him?" 

"I don't know, Simon," Jim said as he stared out the windows in Simon's office. 

"You don't know?" Simon was incredulous."You put your life in this man's hands, but you don't know if you trust him?" 

"I know how it sounds, Simon," Jim said, turning around. "I guess maybe it's a kneejerk reaction." 

"How's that?" 

"You said I put my life in his hands and that's true. The only thing is, he won't put his life in mine anymore. There's something wrong with him and he won't tell me what it is. For all I know, he could be dying." 

"Perhaps he just doesn't want to worry you, Jim. He knows the stress you've been under lately." 

"That shouldn't matter. I might be able to help him. If he won't tell what's going on, I can't. That hurts, Simon." 

"Maybe he's afraid of getting hurt. It's happened before," Simon said carefully. 

"I know," Jim replied, turning back to stare out the windows. "But what kind of life will we have together if we can't or won't trust each other?" 

* * *

"So you and Jason Voigt went out?" Megan said as she took down the poster promoting 'Martial Outlaw.' It was a compromise on Rafe's part. She told him she would not touch the poster of Cleopatra Jones if she could take down the kickboxing poster autographed by Jeff Wincott. 

"Yeah," Rhonda answered as she poured herself another glass of Luzianne. "But it was really weird." 

"Why did he have some kind of fetish or something?" Megan leaned the framed poster next to the counter separating the kitchen and living areas as she sat on a a barstool. "I want details." 

"Well, he was talker, which is fine if we're talking about me, but he mostly wanted to talk about Jim and Blair," Rhonda replied, leaning on the counter. "What do you think about that?" 

"It sounds odd. But, Blair told me they went to school together even though he doesn't remember him. Apparently, Jason dated a friend of Blair's who was quite...popular. So, Blair can't really remember everyone she dated," Megan said with a laugh. "Kind of like you." 

"Oh, that's so funny, I forgot to laugh," Rhonda said, rolling her eyes. "So when's the baby due?" 

"What baby?" Megan looked confused. 

"Your stomach is...less flat. I just assumed you were pregant," Rhonda snickered. "My bad." 

When Rafe walked up to his door, he could hear Rhonda and Megan squabbling inside. Oh this I really need, he thought while he tried to balance the groceries he was carrying as he fumbled for his keys. I don't know why those two even bother to get together. They always end up wanting to pull each others hair out. Sure, it might be fun to watch, but who wants a bald girlfriend? 

Rafe was so intent on finding his key, he didn't noticed the small red dot that danced along the corridor wall. The dot swung around the hallway until it came to rest on the side of the detective's head. On the roof of the building across the street, watching Rafe through the small window in the corridor, someone smiled. This is like shooting fish in a barrel, the assasin thought, squeezing the trigger. 

"Fishwife!" Rhonda shouted as she jerked open the door, causing Rafe to stumble forward just as the hall window shattered and the deadly bullet grazed him across the back. He let out a yell of surprise, dropped the groceries and pitched forward, driving him and Rhonda to the ground."Rafe!" 

"Good lord!" Megan exclaimed as she ran toward the detectives on the floor. "Are you all right?" 

"I've been shot," Rafe said, watching the blood streak his shirt. Rhonda pulled him inside the apartment and slammed the door shut. 

"I'll call for backup and an ambulance," Megan said. 

* * *

"What a surprise, a member of the Cascade PD," Dr. Siobahn Ryan quipped as she entered the ER cubicle and dressed the wound on Rafe's back while Megan and Rhonda were giving statements in the corridor of the ER. "You guys sure know how to keep a doctor on her toes." 

"I bet you get tired of seeing us," Rafe said wincing under Siobahn's ministrations. "Ouch." 

"Suck it up, tough guy," Siobahn said with a laugh. Wow, he's cute, she thought to herself. "So, what happened? Did you just get really lucky or was the shooter Helen Keller?" 

"Luck, I think," Rafe answered. "If Rhonda hadn't opened the door when she did, my head would done the splits." 

"And such a nice head it is, too," Siobahn teased, finishing up. "You can put your shirt back on, now. The wound wasn't severe and you shouldn't have a scar." 

"Lucky me," Rafe said, sounding disappointed. "So, do you get sick of treating cops?" 

"I don't mind, as long as they're cute," Siobahn said, picking up Rafe's chart. "Get out of here." 

* * *

I hate these sessions, Blair grumped as he headed for the exit. I always feel so drained. I guess I should tell Jim what's going on, but the time doesn't feel right. Or maybe I'm just being selfish. He deserves to know what's going on. So why am I keeping him in the dark. Am I trying to push him away? Where are the candy machines in this place? Blair looked around, searching for the elusive machines. Following the signs, he walked into a waiting area loaded with machines. Blair, you have died and gone to heaven, he thought eyeing the M&Ms, the Heath Bars, the Snickers and, oh yes, the HoHos. 

* * *

"I searched every nook and cranny of that roof and came up with nothing," Jim said angrily. "What's the point of having these stupid senses if I can't use them to help my friends, Simon? It seems like, lately, they're a lot more trouble than they're worth." 

"I know you don't mean that, Jim. These abilities of yours have helped put away criminals we couldn't even have touched, before. But, you are just a man, not a super man. We each have our limits, Jim. That's why we work as teams, the one to balance out the other's strengths and weaknesses. We'll find whoever did this. I promise you that. No one assaults my men and gets away with it," Simon vowed. "Maybe you can take Sandburg over to the scene and he can help point you in a new direction." 

"Maybe," Jim said quietly, not really wanting to put Blair back in the field. Since his recovery from Alex's assault and their subsequent nuptials, he had made every excuse he could to keep Blair on the sidelines. Especially since that incident with Nicolette. Blair was only just recovering from that and now he's sick. Maybe he won't let me help him directly, but I'll be damned if I put him in any danger. 

* * *

"Sandburg? What are you doing in here?" Jason Voigt asked when he walked past the waiting room and spotted Blair in front of the machines. That's odd, he thought. Blair looks like he could eat every thing in those machines. "How's Rafe?" 

"What?" Blair turned around quickly and pressed his back to the machine, looking guilty. "Jason, what are you doing here?" 

"I came to see about Rafe. He was shot this evening," Jason said, noting Blair's reaction. He acts like I just caught him doing something wrong. It's odd to think of it now, but Kelly used to act like this sometimes. You are quite the puzzle, Blair. But, you are one puzzle I'm going to enjoy solving. 

"Oh, man, I didn't know," Blair said, pushing his hands through his thick hair. "He's probably in the ER. I've got to go down there." 

"Wait, I'll walk with you," Jason said as Blair rushed past him and sprinted down the corridor the the ER. "Or not." 

* * *

"Come on, Jim, do you think I don't see how you've been keeping that kid practically hidden away from the rest of the world?" Simon asked gruffly. "I know you're need to protect him is in overdrive right now and I understand. But what are you protecting him from? Criminals on the street? Ricki Lake? Or, just maybe you're trying to protect him from you." 

"From me? Simon, I don't know what you're talking about," Jim said dismissively. Turning from his captain when he saw Rafe and Megan emerge from the cubicle. "Well, he certainly seems in capable hands." 

"Rafe is young and will bounce back, quickly. So will Blair if you let him," Simon said. "He doesn't need to be coddled by you right now." 

"What if I need to coddle him?" Jim asked, turning back to Simon. 

"At the expense of his health? You say there is something wrong with him, but he won't tell you what. Before, all this...this...shit...you would have pestered Blair until he told you what was wrong so you could fix it. That always fascinated me, too. He could get you to unload so easily, but getting anything out of him, unless it was something he really wanted to say, was like pulling teeth. Even for you. It always amazed me how little you knew about him. Why is that?" Simon questioned. 

"I don't know. It wasn't that I didn't care. Mostly he volunteered information about him, when it pertained to some way he was trying to help me," Jim answered. "I guess it seems a little one sided. But, even so, I always felt I knew him, even if I didn't know about him. Does that make sense?" 

"A little. I never did understand your relationship. Sentinel thing aside, but he worked some kind of magic on you and you've never been the same. So, you can imagine my surprise, at the way things came down with that whole Alex disaster," Simon replied, watching Jim's jaw clench at the mention of the other sentinel's name. "What do you suppose happened?" 

"Truthfully, Simon, I don't know," Jim said, his ears picking the sound of rubber-soled shoes slapping on the tiled hospital floor. Someone's running. Trouble? Opening his senses to their fullest to search for signs of danger, Jim picked up first the familiar scent of his partner, followed by the sound of a too-fast hearbeat and laboured breathing. "Blair's coming down the hall and he doesn't sound good." 

"What?" Simon watched Jim take off down the hall and followed. When he turned the corner, he watched as Jim intercepted Blair when he entered the ER wing. He winced as the younger man plowed into Jim's hard chest. Simon was relieved when Jim quickly encircled Blair with his arms to keep him from crashing to the floor. "Those two are going to give me ulcers." 

* * *

"Slow down, Chief. Why are you running a marathon in the halls?" Jim asked as he steadied Blair and unselfconsciously ran a hand through the thick, coffee-coloured ringlets he loved. 

"Jason said Rafe was shot," Blair said breathlessly, leaning against Jim's chest. "I guess I'm a little more out of shape than I thought." 

"Yeah," Jim said, steering Blair to a chair outside the x-ray room. "You don't look so good. Maybe I should have Doc come look you over." 

"No, man. Just let me catch my breath," Blair said, not wanting to see another doctor today. "I'll be fine. What's up with Rafe?" 

"Someone tried to kill him. We're still investigating who and why," Jim said, kneeling in front of Blair. "Are you sure you don't want me to call Siobahn?" 

"No need. It was just a little too soon for me to doing my FloJo impression,"Blair answered. "Can I see Rafe? Is he all right?" 

"He's fine. It was just a flesh wound," Jim said, rubbing Blair's thigh. "I think Megan's all ready taken him home. Which, from the looks of it, is where you should be." 

"Fine, man. Home it is," Blair acquiesced, standing up, swaying a little. "Wow, the colours." 

"I'm going to have Siobahn look you over before you go anywhere. I'm going to talk to Simon while she does, then I'll take you home and have a uniform drive your car back," Jim said, holding onto Blair as they walked down the hall. 

"No need. I had a flat and had to call a cab so I wouldn't be late," Blair said. "I'll ride with you." 

"Late for what?" Jim quizzed as they approached Simon and Jason who were talking to Rhonda at the nurse's station. 

"Tell you later, man," Blair said, squeezing closer to Jim. "Promise." 

* * *

"How did it go?" Edwina Hughes asked, pouring herself a drink in the parlour of her Cascade Heights mansion. She was a small woman, hair coloured red, dressed in a very fashionable and very expensive suit. "I trust there were no difficulties?" 

"None at all, Mother,"Crest Hughes said, as he strolled over to the bar and poured himself some scotch, neat. He was tall like his father, Jonathan, with a shock of light brown hair and a pleasant face, like his mother's. "Everything is proceeding according to plan." 

"Good," Edwina said, clinking glasses with her son. "Soon, we will make those who caused your father's death wish they had never been born. Now, I didn't see your sister at the funeral this afternoon, where was she?" 

"Briar couldn't come because she had business that required her immediate attention," Crest said, finishing his drink and pouring another. "That seems to happen a lot these days." 

"Yes, it does. I think I will have to have a talk with her about her responsibility to this family. Until then, we have other plans to make. Do you have the rest of our targets?" 

"Yes," Crest answered, placing several photographs of the members of the Major Crime unit on the bar. "Here they are for your entertainment and approval." 

"Good. Let's plan our next target," Edwina said, picking through the photographs. 

* * *

"This isn't necessary," Blair groused as Jim settled him into bed, fluffing pillows around the unhappy anthropologist. "Dr. Ryan said I was fine." 

"And I'm going to make sure you stay fine," Jim said, settling on the bed next to Blair. Smiling, he put one arm around his partner and reached for the remote with the other. "What do you want to watch?" 

"I think 'Night Heat' is on," Blair said, snuggling close to Jim. Although he was just the slightest bit put out by the mother hen routine, he had to admit there was nothing he liked better than spending an evening in Jim's arms. "What did you find at the crime scene?" 

"Nothing. It was a total wipe," Jim said, flipping through the channels. "I hate this show." 

"Then let's don't watch it,"Blair replied, reaching for the the remote that Jim held out of reach. "You want me to go down to the scene with you? Turn it." 

"No. If you want to watch it, we'll watch it," Jim teased, giving Blair a quick kiss on the forehead. "I want you to go down, but not to the scene." 

"And listen to you gripe through the whole thing? Whatever," Blair said, crawling over Jim to grab at the remote. "Give me the remote or the only place I'm going is down to is my old room." 

"I don't mind sitting through this show with you. Marriage is, after all, a give and take relationship." Jim kept the remote out of Blair's reach until the smaller man finally gave up and resettled into the nest of bedding Jim made for him. 

"Well, you can only give so much until I can't take anymore," Blair quipped, pushing his hair out of his face. 

"That's not what you said in San Antonio," Jim whispered, nibbling at Blair's ear. 

"Don't take me there," Blair said. "That was so not funny. I never thought I'd end up in the hospital, man." 

* * *

"Chief! See who's at the door!" Jim shouted as he lathered his face to shave. It's too early for visitors. Why can't people come by at a decent hour? As Jim picked up his new Mach 3, he heard the pounding on the door become more insistent. "Blair!" 

When there was no response, Jim scanned the loft for his partner finding no trace of the anthropologist. Where has he gone? He was still in bed when I came down. There's that knocking again. Someone is insistent this morning. As the knocking continue unabated, Jim quickly toweled off his face and stormed into the living room in nothing but his boxers. 

"What?" Jim growled when he opened the door. He was somewhat taken aback by the figure standing before him. She was a regal looking woman, with carefully coifed blonde hair, tailored Chanel suit and a cream coloured pursed clutched in her hand like a weapon. 

"Good morning to you, too, Detective," the woman said haughtily. "I see you've seen fit to wear your finest attire for my visit." 

"Who are you?" Jim asked, annoyed by the woman's attitude. 

"My name is Lillian Sandburg," she answered, breezing past Jim into the loft. "I'm here to see my grandson. Please tell him I'm here." 

"I would, but he's not," Jim said, closing the door after Lillian entered."Can I do something for you?" 

"What a dump," Lillian announced, turning around, taking in the full scope of the loft. "Still, it is a far sight better than some of the hovels Blair has seen fit to live in." 

"We like it," Jim said icily as he walked back into the bath to put on his robe. 

"I'm sure that you do," Lillian replied, eyeing Jim comtemptuously. 

"So, what was it you needed?" Jim asked again when he emerged from the bath, tying the robe's belt with a quick pull. 

"I need, Detective, you out of my grandson's life," Lillian said matter-of-factly. 

* * *

Oh no, Blair thought when he saw the long white car parked on the street outside the loft building. She's here. She wasn't supposed to be here until this weekend. What was I thinking? Naturally she would show up early. This is so not good. She's upstairs right now with Jim. Alone. I should have told him she was coming. I was waiting for the right time. That's going to be the death of me. The right time. I'm slowly beginning to realise there is no right time. Man, this sucks. Jim took the day off today and there was so much I wanted to talk to him about. I guess this is just another right time flying out the window on little wings. I'm screwed. I must have some seriously bad karma or something. There's no putting this off. I've got to go upstairs and face the music. Nodding politely to the driver in the car, Blair clutched his newspaper to his chest and walked slowly into the building. 

"Hail Mary, full of grace, don't let him sock her in the face," Blair prayed as he stepped into the elevator. 

* * *

"Honestly, Detective, I'm at a loss at how you managed to lure Blair into your sordid little web," Lillian said, waving her purse for emphasis. "But, I am here to put and end to this innane, meaningless sham you call a marriage." 

"And just how are you going to do that?" Jim questioned in a calm, even voice. He tried to remember the techniques Blair had taught him to keep calm, but he was slowly losing the battle. 

"I know what people like you are all about," Lillian hissed, opening up her purse as she turned to face Jim. "How much will it take? A quarter million? A million? How much will it take to get an opportunist like you away from my grandson?" 

"Are you offering to bribe a police officer? I could arrest you here and now," Jim growled, advancing on the dispetic woman. 

"Don't you threaten me with your strong arm tactics," Lillian said, jabbing Jim's chest with her purse. "You just try and arrest me and I'll bring you down so hard and so fast your head will spin." 

"You wouldn't be the first to try," Jim said through clenched teeth. This woman is Blair's grandmother? No wonder Naomi hit the road. All this time I just thought she suffered from a terminal case of wanderlust, but she was just avoiding Mommie Dearest, here. 

"You don't scare me, Detective. I've brought down bigger men than you," Lillian said haughtily. "So, name your price, Detective. This is a one time offer." 

"All the money in the world wouldn't make me leave Blair now or ever," Jim hissed as he walked over and yanked open the door. "I want you out of here, now." 

"Again?" Blair asked, still clutching the paper to his chest, looking up at Jim with his soulful eyes. 

"Chief! Oh god, no, I didn't mean, you," Jim stammered, pulling Blair into a quick hug. 

"Relax, Jim," Blair said with a laugh, patting Jim on the back. "I see you've met Nana." 

"Blair, get away from him this instant," Lillian ordered, sure her wish would be obeyed. "I'm taking you out of here." 

"You're not taking him anywhere," Jim said, instinctively pushing Blair behind him for protection. "He's a grown man who can make his own decisions. He doesn't need some senile old warhorse to tell him what to do." 

"Now see here, Detective," Lillian hissed, stalking toward Jim, waving her purse like a weapon. "I've had about enough of this. I am taking my grandson away from this fool's paradise you've crafted for yourself. With time, I'm sure I can undo all the damage you've done to him over the years. I should have come ealier; but, I was sure Naomi would have the sense to get him out of this mess. Obviously, I was wrong. That task now falls to me." 

"Nana, it sounds like you need more fibre in your diet,"Blair said, slipping from behind Jim to face his grandmother. "What are you doing here? You weren't supposed to come until the weekend." 

"I wanted to surprise you," Lillian replied as she walked over and cupped Blair's face in her hands. "Now, why don't you go pack your things while I talk to the detective. Then we'll be off." 

"I think you're all ready off," Jim said under his breath as he came up behind Blair and pulled him away from Lillian. "Blair why don't you go upstairs and rest for a little bit? You look a little pale." 

"He's going to go upstairs and pack his things. I've taken a suite for us at the Fontaine," Lillian said, reaching for Blair. "Go on, dear. The sooner you're away from here, the better." 

"He's not going anywhere,"Jim hissed, jerking Blair out of Lillian's grasp. 

"He's going with me," Lillian hissed, grabbing Blair again. 

"I'm going crazy," Blair grumbled, shaking off both Jim and Lillian. "Nana, I'm with Jim now and I intend to stay with him. It's been a long road getting here, and I don't want to take any detours." 

"Blair, Jim isn't any good for you," Lillian said. "I've kept track of you. I know what you've been through since you took up with this... this... gigolo." 

"Gigolo!" Jim roared. "I am not now, nor have I ever been, a gigolo." 

"Like you would admit to it," Lillian said huffily, before clearing her throat. "Blair, would you be a lamb and fix me a drink?" 

"Fix it yourself, Nana. You're the expert at ice and bitters," Blair said, heading for the sofa. "So, why are you here? This is so not like you." 

"I've come to save you from this fortune seeker and, if necessary, yourself," Lilian said, clearing her throat again. "I knew something like this was bound to happen one day. Your mother was the same way. I swear that girl doesn't have the sense God gave a goose. Of course, I expected some blonde bimbette. Instead, I've got this hairless ape, to deal with. No matter, Blair. Soon, you will be back home where you belong and your relationship with this...person, will be no more than a memory." 

"I'm sorry, Nana," Blair said as he rose from the sofa and walked to the door. "You're going to have to move your car." 

"Whatever for, child?"Lillian asked, confusion clouding her face. 

"Because I want you the hell out of our home," Blair hissed as he opened the door. "Your chariot awaits." 

"Fine," Lillian said, storming out the door. "But don't think this over, Detective. You may have won this battle but not the war." 

Blair slammed the door shut and leaned against it, wrapping his arms around himself. Jim watched him for a minute before he walked over, put an arm around him and led him back to the sofa. 

"So, that's your grandmother? She's a real handful, Chief," Jim said, kissing the top of Blair's head. "What just happened here?" 

"Nana was just being Nana," Blair answered. "I'm sorry you had to listen to that, man." 

"It's all right. I've never been called a gigolo before," Jim said with a wry smile. "Is that how you think of me?" 

"No," Blair said, rolling his eyes. "Nana just has some strange ideas. But listen, we need to talk about some things. Nana is the least of them." 

"Are you going to tell me what's wrong with you?" Jim asked. "Don't try to play it off, either, Chief. I know there is something wrong with you and I know you've been seeing Doc regularly. I haven't pressured you because I thought you'd tell me on your own. Only, it's been a while and I guess I'm starting to worry that maybe you don't trust me anymore. Is that it? Do you not trust me anymore?" 

"Jim, I trust with my life, man. I always have and I always will,"Blair answered. "It's just, I don't want to lay something big on you because I don't want you sticking around out of pity." 

"That won't happen, Chief. I'm with you, because I want to be with you," Jim said, pulling the smaller man close. "It may have taken me some time to realise that, but it's true. You can tell me anything, Blair. I hope you know that." 

* * *

"Yeah. This is kind of hard for me to tell you, though," Blair said, putting his head on Jim's chest, listening to his heartbeat. "Do you know what bulimia is?" 

"Isn't that what killed Karen Carpenter?" Jim asked, rubbing his cheek on Blair's hair and stroking his arm. 

"Yeah, it is," Blair replied. 

"Wait a minute, Chief. Are you saying you've got bulimia?" Jim felt a chill run down his back as he remembered Blair's frequent bouts with stomach flu and the plethora of HoHo wrappers that seemed to fill the loft. "The signs were there. How could I have not seen it?" 

"That's not important. I've had it for a long time, but it hasn't bothered me in years. Not until Alex anyway and our marriage. Then there was Nicolette. So much happened so fast, I just couldn't deal, man. I went back to old habits. I can't tell you how ashamed I've felt about doing it and keeping it from you. Megan, as well as the doctors said I should tell you, but I was afraid it'd turn you off. It's kind of gross," Blair said quickly. "Now, Nana's shown up to cause trouble. I'm afraid, despite their best efforts, the docs just won't be able to help." 

"I'm here and I'll help," Jim said. "I won't leave you, either. You were right about what you told that old battleaxe. It's been a long road getting where we are and we're not about to make any detours." 

* * *

"Hello Detective Ellison," Dr. Sloane Denning said, offering her hand to the uncomfortable looking man in her door. "Blair's told me a lot about you." 

"Hello, Doctor Denning," Jim said, shaking her hand as he looked around nervously. "Look, I'm really uncomfortable being here. Maybe this was a bad idea." 

"This wasn't a bad idea, Detective," Dr. Denning said, sitting down behind her desk. "I'm glad you wanted to come talk to me. I know you must be worried about Blair." 

"Yeah, he scares the crap out of me sometimes," Jim replied, sitting down in the chair facing Sloane's desk, carefully avoiding the couch. "I know that sounds strange, but I worry endlessly about him. I know he thinks I think he doesn't know how to take care of himself. But that's not the reason I worry about him." 

"Why do you worry about him so much, then?" Sloane sat back in her chair and stared at Jim. "He's mentioned something he calls Mother Hen Mode." 

"Yeah," Jim said with a sigh. " I do tend to go overboard with the mother hen routine. That's only because I worry about him, though." 

"What do you worry about?" 

"That I'll lose him. I almost have and it's a feeling I don't like," Jim said, looking around the room. "Can you tell me how I can help him?" 

"First of all, you can't take responsibility for Blair's disorder," Sloane answered. "What you can take responsibility for is how you express your concern. Right now, he needs your support and understanding. He doesn't need recriminations. He knows he has a problem. That is why he sought help in the first place." 

"So, are you saying I should just leave him alone and let the chips fall where they may? I don't think I can do that," Jim said, running a hand over his short hair. " I want to make things better for him." 

"I understand that, Detective. I'm not saying you should pretend like there isn't a problem, because that will ring false with Blair and only serve to aggravate his condition. Be there for him. A touch, a hug, playful teasing, asking him his opinions and asking for his help are all powerful tools for healing. In this manner, you are telling him he is more than just an eating disorder. That's very important," Sloane said with a smile. "Blair is very lucky he has someone like you in his life." 

"I'm the lucky one, Doctor. Thank you for your time," Jim said, standing up. "I appreciate it." 

"My door is always open, Detective," Sloane replied, standing as well. "With you on his side, I have no doubts Blair will beat this." 

"Thanks again." Jim walked out of the office, his concerns only slightly abated. I wish this was something I could fight with my fists. I feel so powerless. But, I will be strong ofr Blair. He needs me now. I've relied on him for so long. Well, now it's time for him to rely on me. 

"Mother, have you picked our next target?" Crest Hughes asked, walking into the parlour and over to the bar. 

"I have. Detective Rafe was but the first in a series of warnings for the Major Crime unit. Here is the second," Edwina Hughes said, handing her son a photograph. "Make it so." 

"As you wish," Crest said, pouring some Armangac into a glass. "Have you spoken to Briar?" 

"She sends her regrets about not attending your father's funeral, but she feels it wouldn't have reflected well on her to be here," Edwina said coldly. "That girl has always been a disappointement. How was your day?" 

"Very profitable," Crest answered, swigging down the last of his Armangac. "I'll make arrangements for our next target now." 

"It can wait for now. It's almost time for dinner. Your sister has agreed to grace us with her presence," Ewina said, walking over to the bar to pour herself some sherry. "Besides, Consuelo is making your favourite." 

"Lambchops? I can taste them now. I'm going to get ready." Crest gave his mother a kiss on the cheek and walked out of the parlour humming brightly. 

"At least one of my children isn't ashamed of this family," Edwina said bitterly. 

* * *

"Well, as I live and breath," William Ellison said as he opened his door. "Lillian Locke." 

"It's Sandburg now you old fool," Lillian said as she breezed into the foyer. "We have a problem." 

"We do?" William closed the door and looked at Lillian for clarification. "Are you aware your son and my grandson are involved?" 

"Jimmy? And that young man...Blair?" William asked, scratching his head. 

"Yes. I want it ended. I can't believe you've let it progress this far," Lillian hissed. "What are we going to do about it?" 

"I don't there is anything that can be done," William answered. "Besides, Jimmy and I aren't really that close and I wouldn't feel right butting into his business." 

"Then it's a good thing I'm here," Lillian said, stalking back toward the door. "If you won't help, I guess I will just have to end this on my own." 

"Now, Lillian, you leave those kids alone," William warned. "You don't know what you're dealing with." 

"You old carp, I'm going to get your little gold digger of a son out of my grandson's life one way or another and nothing and no one can stop me,"Lillian said, storming out the door. 

"Oh, Jimmy, I hope you're ready for the fury of Hurrican Lillian," William said out loud as he watched Lillian's car pull away from the curb. 

* * *

"I am glad this day is over," Megan said with a yawn. "This investigation is going nowhere fast." 

"Still no leads?" Rhonda asked as she rummaged in her purse for her compact. "How's Rafe doing?" 

"Oh he's tough as nails," Megan answered, sitting on the edge of Rhonda's desk. "He and Henri are out on a stakeout right now. You want to grab supper?" 

"Sure," Rhonda said. "What are you in the mood for?" 

"Right now, anything," Megan replied, her stomach growling. "How about Italian?" 

"Naw, I had that with Jason. Greek?" 

"Mmm, halva," Megan said, standing up. "I'm going to get my things and I'll meet you by the elevator." 

"Fine," Rhonda answered absently, still searching for her compact. 

"Megan, can I see you in the break room?" Jim asked when he walked into the bullpen. 

"Sure, Jim," Megan answered, following the detective. "What's going on?" 

"Shut the door, please," Jim said quietly, turning to face his fellow detective. 

"Jim, is something the matter?" Megan asked, shutting the door. 

"Yes. I recently learned Blair is suffering from bulimia. I also learned you've known about this," Jim said matter-of-factly. "Would you like to tell me why you didn't see fit to bring this to my attention?" 

"He told you? I'm glad," Megan said thoughtfully. "I know he was torn about whether or not to tell you." 

"You should have told me as soon as you found out," Jim bellowed, starling Megan who backed instinctively toward the door. "When it comes to Blair, you don't keep secrets from me." 

"Jim, it wasn't my place. This was between Sandy and you. I kept his confidence because he's my friend and I didn't want to drive him away. I know what bulimia can do to a person. I didn't want to sit around and watch that happen to Sandy. I wanted him to know he could come to me without fear that I'd go running to you. He needed that," Megan said, bowing up to Jim. 

"I know that," Jim said, as he turned away. "I just don't see why he thought he could tell you and not me." 

"He didn't tell me. I figured it out on my own," Megan said, carefully putting a hand on Jim's shoulder. "I didn't do this to you, Jim. I did it for Sandy. He's my friend and I care about him. If he couldn't come to you, he knew he could come to me." 

"I guess I understand, Megan. But I still think you should have told me," Jim said rigidly, turning around to grab Megan by the shoulders. 

"I know you do," Megan said softly. "I'm just glad you know now and can be there for him when he needs you." 

"I'll always be there for him," Jim replied. 

* * *

"So, you finally told Jim," Dr. Denning said with a smile. "You're showing progress, Blair." 

"I figured he deserved to know," Blair said with a shrug of the shoulders. 

"How do you feel?" 

"Pretty good, actually," Blair replied. "I know we've got a long way to go, but as long as Jim's with me, I know I can do it." 

" I think together, the two of you can overcome anything." 

"I hope so, Simon. I really do. Dr. Denning says I just need to be there for him and treat him normally, not like he's made out of glass. I'm going to have him go over the scene with me. We might find something," Jim said, pouring himself a cup of coffee. 

"I seem to recall giving you that same advice," Simon said, leaning back in his chair. "I think I'm hurt." 

"Fine, I'll come to you for all my advice and I promise to follow it all," Jim said with a small laugh. 

"Only if you pay me two hundred dollars an hour," Simon said, chuckling. "Get out of here." 

* * *

I'm late, Megan groused as she dashed across the street to the Cascade PD station. I knew I shouldn't have stayed up waiting for Rafe. I'm so tired lately, anyway. It's a miracle I got up at all. I look like a ghoul, Megan thought when she saw her reflection in the glass windows. This is not going to be my day. 

While Megan scrutinised her face and fair, she noticed a small blue car slow down as it passed in front of the station. That's odd, she thought, turning around. As soon as she did, she was caught in a spray of gunfire. Good lord! Megan dove to the ground, drawing her sidearm and returning fire. An instant later, the entire Cascade PD stormed out of the station, guns drawn. By then, though, the car had sped away. 

"Megan, are you all right?" Simon asked, kneeling by his newest detective. "You're bleeding." 

"It's just a flesh wound," Megan said, holding her arm. "I'll be all right." 

"Did you get anything, Jim?" Simon asked when Jim walked over. 

"No. The shooter was gone by the time I got out here," Jim replied. "I don't like this, Simon. First Rafe, now Megan. Who's next?" 

"I don't know, Jim. But, it looks like someone is playing with us. This is one game, though, I intend to win," Simon vowed as he helped Megan to her feet. "Someone is calling us out and I intend to make them sorry they ever heard of Major Crime." 

End 


End file.
